


Gotta Get Out of This Humdrum Town

by flowercrownclem



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Pop Punk AU, pining Morrissey, pop punk god Johnny, they're in the US for some reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4539354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownclem/pseuds/flowercrownclem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Marrissey Pop Punk au that nobody asked for.<br/>Steven just doesn't know what to do when the pop punk god Johnny moves to his dead end town and joins his band.<br/>Crushes are so not punk rock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When I Come Around

I was woken from a pleasant dream by my screeching alarm clock, knocking it off of the bedside table when I flung my arm out to stop it. I groaned, picking it up and righting it. I pushed my thick black-framed glasses up my nose and stumbled to my closet to get ready for another boring day of school. The closet was full of dark skinny jeans and band t-shirts, from which I chose a set of clothes.  
When I walked into school an hour later I was dressed in a too-big Ramones shirt and black skinny jeans, my hair laying limp against my forehead. I was met at my locker by my two friends Andy and Mike. We met there every morning before class to catch up on whatever we might have missed after texting the night before. Mike was wearing a signature Buzzcocks singlet with his own hair spiked in all directions while Andy’s was bleached out nearly white, interspersed with bright blue streaks. We were obviously the only cool guys in the whole school, especially compared to those dumb jock soces.  
“Hey Steven, did you hear about the new kid?” Andy asked when I joined them.  
“New kid?” I asked, only half paying attention as I opened my locker. “Who’d want to move here?”  
“I dunno,” Andy agreed, “Nobody ever moves to this dead-end town.”  
“I wonder what they’re like,” Mike mused.  
“We’ll find out soon enough,” I told him, grabbing my books and heading to class.  
The rest of the day passed slowly with the same teachers droning on and on, the same stupid classmates making the same lame comments. By the time lunch came along I was ready to explode. I nearly ran to the cafeteria to meet Andy and Mike, ready to spend the next half hour complaining about our school and our dead-end town. However, when I neared our usual table there were three people seated rather than the expected two.  
I approached the table cautiously, trying to examine the new addition but their back was turned to me. When Andy and Mike saw me they both waved me over excitedly. I sat down in the only remaining seat, directly beside the new kid. When I set my backpack on the table he turned and my breath caught in my throat. He was edgy and beautiful.  
He had dyed black fringe that swept across his forehead to reveal chocolate brown eyes ringed in smudged black eyeliner. His mouth was set in a smirk that seemed to scream “I’m cooler than you could ever hope to be.” Glancing down revealed a Fall Out Boy shirt, sealing my fate. _Shit, he’s perfect_ , I thought.  
“Steven, this is Johnny,” Andy said, pulling me out of my trance.  
“Hi,” I said quietly, faking a cough and looking away to hide my blush. Blushing was so not punk rock.  
“Hey,” Johnny replied, his smirk clear in his voice.  
“We were just telling Johnny about our band,” Mike informed me.  
“Ugh, Mike,” I groaned. “It’s not like we’re a real band.”  
“C’mon Steve-o, for now we may be stuck doing Green Day covers but who knows? It’ll happen,” Mike argued.  
“I told you not to fucking call me Steve-o,” I growled, crossing my arms.  
Andy laughed before turning back to Johnny. “You play anything?”  
“Yeah, guitar,” Johnny replied.  
“Me too. You any good?” Andy asked. Johnny simply shrugged and Andy continued, “You should jam with us sometime.”  
“Sure, that could be cool,” Johnny smiled.  
“Sick,” Andy grinned. “We practice everyday after school. Stop by today if you want.”  
“Rad,” Johnny agreed, standing up from the table. “I’ve got to go find my next class but I’ll catch you guys later, yeah?”  
“I like him,” Mike said as soon as Johnny had walked away.  
“What the hell, Andy?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes.  
“What do you mean?” Andy asked defensively.  
“Why’d you just invite him into the band without asking?”  
“Steven,” Andy sighed, “It’s not like I gave him a definite spot. Besides, you said it yourself- it’s not like we’re a real band. What do you care?”  
“Just ask first next time,” I grumbled, heading to my next class. To be honest I knew why I cared. I was already in danger of developing a crush on the new boy and a crush would not fit my image- especially not one that would never be requited. I may be cooler than the brain-dead “popular” kids at school but I’d never be as cool as Johnny and a crush would only make me more pathetic. I was just a mousy pop punk dweeb who he would never like as more than an acquaintance. I’d have to be careful or I’d be head over heels before you could say “dead-end town.”

“Johnny!” Mike and Andy exclaimed in unison when the dark-haired boy appeared in the doorway of Andy’s garage. I hung back by Mike’s drum-kit, silently observing the boy. He had a guitar case slung across his body, the smirk from lunchtime still on his face. Shit, I needed to stop looking at him. Maybe if I didn’t see him I would stop wanting to look at him.  
“Do you know ‘When I Come Around’?” Andy asked Johnny as they plugged their instruments into their amps.  
“Yeah, like...” Johnny strummed through a few of the chords, looking up to Andy for approval.  
“That’s it,” Andy grinned. “I’ll do the bass part for now.”  
Mike stepped behind the drums, starting up the beat while Andy and Johnny played through the first verse, warming up. Before long they paused, looking to me before Johnny started the intro. I nodded my head before I began to shout out the lyrics as Mike and Andy came in loudly.  
“ _I heard you crying loud,_  
 _All the way across town_  
 _You've been searching for that someone,_  
 _And it's me out on the prowl_  
 _As you sit around feeling sorry for yourself..._ ”  
It wasn’t perfect but it was better than we’d ever sounded. Even I could tell that Johnny was a great guitar player and with Andy moved to bass there was a new depth to our sound. By the time we got to the end of the song we were all looking at each other excitedly.  
“You guys are good,” Johnny said, his guitar held comfortably against his abdomen.  
“Way better with you,” Andy pointed out.  
“Yeah,” Mike agreed. I nodded reluctantly, giving an “Mhm” of agreement.  
“Should we try it again?” Johnny asked, readjusting his guitar.  
When we’d run through the song until it was nearly perfect we’d retreated into Andy’s bedroom to hang out, surrounded by band posters and loud music.  
“So, Johnny, how’d you end up here?” Mike asked once we settled around the room.  
“Well,” Johnny laughed, “I didn’t exactly choose it. My dad got a new job so we had to move. I didn’t really care much but now I’m even further from my girlfriend.”  
I hated that my heart sunk so much hearing that he had a girlfriend.  
“Who’s she?” Andy asked, flicking through a stack of CDs.  
“Her name’s Angie. She’s in college. We met at this punk show a few months back.”  
_Shit_ , I thought, all hope gone in the face of some cool older punk chick.  
“She had to go back to college but we kept up the long distance thing. It’s harder for her to visit here though,” Johnny continued, fiddling with a guitar pick while Andy chose a CD. He had very nice fingers. They were thin and kind of spidery, pale and nimble. He had perfect musician hands and I was completely screwed. I blinked hard and drug my eyes away from his hands, only to be met with that same smirk he always seemed to wear. Why did I have to be creepy? Why did I have to keep looking at him? Why did he have to be so nice to look at?  
Maybe having an unrequited crush wouldn’t be so bad if I knew it would never happen. I could just keep it to myself, keep watching him from afar and all that. Besides, I needed new material for songs and I didn’t want to have to stop looking at Johnny. I wasn’t sure that was even possible.


	2. You Wanna Watch Some Anime?

“So whadaya think?” Andy asked eagerly after Johnny went home. “You guys love him right? He’s totally in.”  
“Andy-” I started, not even sure how I could argue.  
“C’mon, he’s perfect! He’s great at guitar and Mike likes him and Steven’s got a crush on him and it all works perfectly!”  
“What?!” I demanded loudly. “I don’t- Shut up Andy!”  
“Steven,” Andy said in a condescending tone. “We’ve been friends since middle school. We know when you have a crush on someone. You get all pissy and weird. Well, weirder than usual...”  
“I don’t have a crush!” I insisted, knowing it was useless to argue the truth.  
“Yeah you do,” Mike said, not looking up from his phone.  
“What are you even doing?” I asked, trying to change the subject.  
“Texting Johnny,” he replied, closing his phone. “He said he’s down to join the band.”  
“You gave him a spot?” I cried.  
“Yeah,” Mike looked between Andy and I, “I thought Andy said he was in?”  
“ _I_ didn’t!”  
“But you have a crush on him so I figured-”  
“I do not!” I sat down roughly on Andy’s bed, crossing my arms and frowning at them. Andy sat down next to me carefully, very slowly putting one hand on my shoulder before my glare forced him to retract it.  
“You can have a crush you know,” he told me gently, “just don’t be weird about it. We’re really good with Johnny and I just think we should give it a chance. Don’t you want to _do_ something?”  
“Yeah,” I admitted.  
“I think Johnny might be the way for that to happen. At least give it a chance?”  
“Fine,” I sighed before grumbling out a defeated “I don’t have a crush on him though.”  
“Sure you don’t,” Andy placated, patting my head.

 _Dammit_ , I thought, laying on my bed that night. _I didn’t even_ want _a crush. They’re stupid and I hate them and they make everything all lame and I’m punk rock, dammit, I don’t get crushes!_  
I groaned out loud, drowned out by the Blink-182 that was blasting from my iPod.  
Why couldn’t Johnny just like me back? It’d make everything so much simpler and we could just date and make out in a super punk rock kind of way and everything would be so easy! God, why did everything have to be so lame? I felt like some tween girl with her first crush trying to figure out what to do with her feelings.  
I hated feelings. They were unnecessary and inconvenient.  
I huffed out an annoyed breath, turning over and trying my best to fall asleep.

The next weekend I was woken up by a loud knock at the front door. I considered going back to sleep but I knew my mom would be out and when the knocking repeated I knew the only way to stop it would be to answer the door.  
I rolled out of bed, pulling a Panic! at the Disco shirt on over my black boxers before yanking the door open. I squinted at the combination of the bright light coming from outside and my having forgotten to put on my glasses.  
“Hey,” a blurry Johnny greeted awkwardly from my front porch.  
“Uh, hi,” I said, bringing my hand up to subtly flatten my hair. “Johnny. What’re you doing at my house so early?”  
“Well, first of all it’s like two in the afternoon so it’s not really early,” he smirked. “But Andy said we were meeting here today?”  
“He didn’t-” I started, confused, before it clicked and I muttered “I’m gonna kill him.”  
“What?” Johnny asked, stepping forward.  
“Nothing,” I shook my head, pulling the door further open. “I must have missed his text or something. Come in and I’ll go grab my phone. And, uh, put on pants...”  
Johnny snorted as I darted into my room, scooping up my phone and perching on my bed.  
To Andy:  
- _WTF??_  
From Andy:  
- _have fun ;P_  
To Andy:  
_-i hate you so much right now_  
_-GET OVER HERE_  
From Andy:  
- _u should b thanking me this is ur chance to woo him_  
To Andy:  
- _fuck you_  
From Andy:  
- _tell him we had 2 cancel_  
I was in the middle of typing out a string of curses and insults as a reply when the bed dipped beside me.  
“What’s up?” Johnny asked, trying to look over my shoulder at my phone.  
“Nothing,” I threw my phone back on the bedside table. “Andy said that they, uh, had to cancel. Sorry. You can leave if you want.”  
“Nah, that’s fine,” Johnny gave a small smile. “Unless you want me to go?”  
“No, uh, you can, like, stay if you want I guess,” I told him, cringing at my own awkwardness.  
“Cool,” Johnny said, settling so that he had one foot tucked under him on the bed.  
“Do you want food or something?” I asked, desperate for something to do.  
“Sure,” he chirped. When I went towards the kitchen he followed me again, this time hopping up to perch on the counter top. I searched briefly through the cabinets before tossing an opened bag of chips at Johnny, who caught them out of the air perfectly. Everything he fucking did was perfect. While he started chewing loudly at the chips I tossed a few pieces of bread in the toaster, pouring two glasses of juice while I waited.  
“Hmm?” Johnny hummed, holding out the bag of chips and patting the space beside him on the counter. I opted to lean against the side rather than sit on top of it, but I joined him, taking the offered chip.  
“Your eyes are blue,” Johnny suddenly stated, swinging his feet against the side of the counter.  
“Yes?” I replied, my eyebrows furrowing in question.  
“You usually wear glasses so I didn’t really notice,” he explained, reminding me that I’d forgotten to grab my glasses (or my pants) from my room.  
“I should put my glasses on,” I told him, moving away from the counter.  
“Do you have to wear them?”  
“I mean, I don’t _have_ to. It’s just easier to, like, see and shit.”  
Johnny laughed, “You look nice without your glasses.”  
“As opposed to...?” I raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile. He thought I looked nice?  
“No!” Johnny laughed, leaning back against the cupboards, “You can just see your face better is all.”  
“Okay...” I hurried back to my room to hide my blush. I threw my glasses on and had just finished pulling on a pair of skinny jeans when I heard the toaster finish. I darted back out, reaching around Johnny who was standing in front of the toaster to grab my own slice. I whirled around, laying out butter and jam along with two knives as Johnny looked on in awe. As we stood side-by-side fixing our toast and I was struck by how nice and domestic it seemed, just making toast together. I caught myself thinking for a moment, _I could spend the rest of my life making toast next to you._  
But I couldn’t. Johnny had a girlfriend and even if he didn’t there was no reason he’d like me. Still, I could enjoy the feeling of standing next to him with our elbows brushing and the warm smell of bread and butter surrounding us.  
Of course my stupid brain-to-mouth filter could never let me have anything nice though.  
“Do you wanna watch some anime?” I asked suddenly.  
_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck_ , I internally screamed. _Fuck fuck fucking shit. Jesus Christ I sound like a middle school weeboo. Why, God? Why did you make me this way? Fucking hell Johnny is never going to love me._ I’m _never going to love me. Fuck._  
“Sure,” Johnny chirped, grabbing his plate. “Which one?”  
“Wait,” I froze, my brain trying to catch up. “You want to... Watch anime... with me?”  
“Yeah,” Johnny looked uncertain. “You asked, so...”  
“Uh, yeah. Okay-” I broke off when Johnny’s phone trilled the first notes of ‘Black Parade.’ He looked down at his phone, getting lost for a minute. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with a frown. “You okay?”  
“Hmm?” He looked up, meeting my gaze. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just my girlfriend. She’s just bitching again about whatever.”  
“Are you guys... okay?”  
“Yeah, I- I guess. I dunno,” he sighed, “It’s just been weird. She’s been weird. I told her I was bi a few weeks ago and now she’s been all... weird.”  
“Like Pete Wentz,” I noted.  
“What?” he asked, tilting his head, his eyes squinting up slightly while the edges of his lips started to turn up again.  
“Pete Wentz,” I repeated. “He’s, uh, bisexual. So was James Dean. And Billy Joe Armstrong. It’s, uh, pretty hip, huh?”  
Johnny laughed incredulously.  
“Let’s go watch some fucking anime,” he grinned. “I’m still only halfway through Death Note.”  
Somehow I found myself sitting on my bed watching anime with none other than Johnny Marr, the cool new kid who was really kind of a fucking nerd but somehow managed to still seem like the coolest person I would ever meet in my entire life, who happened to be having relationship problems and happened to be not heterosexual, and who thought I looked nice without my glasses on. Somehow I found myself completely unable to squash out all hope that maybe somehow I could get Johnny to like me.


	3. Try Hard

I was once again sprawled across my bed, wallowing and moping, cocooned in loud angsty music. I couldn’t stop thinking about Johnny and about how nice it’d be if he were there with me. It’d been a week since he’d spent the day at my house and even though I saw him every day at school I missed him. I decided that if I was going to have a crush I’d have to call in the big guns, in the form of my best friend from the high school across town.  
To Linder:  
_-Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin_  
_-Linder!_  
_-Linder answer meeee!_  
From Linder:  
_-jfc stevo what do you need_  
To Linder:  
_-you have to come help meeeee_  
_-linder my life is falling apart come fix it_  
From Linder:  
_-boy problems?_  
To Linder:  
_-cute boy problems_  
From Linder:  
_-fine ill be over in a minute_  
When I opened the door roughly twenty minutes later I let out an annoyed huff of breath and pointed out, “That wasn’t a minute.”  
“Yeah, whatever,” she sneered, twisting her red painted lips. “I’m sorry I can’t teleport to your front porch.”  
Once we were back in my room she turned to face me, asking seriously, “So what’s up? What’s his name?”  
“Johnny,” I groaned, sitting down and burying my face in my hands. “He’s beautiful. He’s like Frank Iero and Ryan Ross had a really hot baby.”  
“So what? You need help getting in his pants?”  
“No... Well, yeah, basically. But he has a cool punk chick girlfriend! She’s probably really cool and way more punk rock than me and they’ll get married and have really cool children and I’ll die alone with 30 cats.”  
“Just be cooler than her,” Linder told me, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.  
“It’s not that easy!” I complained, glaring at her. “I can’t just become cool overnight!”  
“Yes you can,” she argued. “Have you never seen any teen movie ever? You just take off your glasses, make your hair look less stupid, and bam! He’s in love.”  
“He said I looked nice without my glasses,” I mused absentmindedly.  
“See?” she shouted. “It’s settled. You’re getting a makeover.”  
“What? No- Linder. You can’t just-”  
“Nope,” she cut me off. “We’re doing it. I’m making you over. You’re gonna look super cool and what’s-his-name will fall in love and when you’re getting married at a cemetery or some weird emo shit you’ll thank me.”  
Before I could protest anymore she was rooting through my room, searching for god knows what. I sat anxiously on the edge of my bed and watched her go through my closet, throwing things into piles that had no meaning to me. Before long she grabbed my arm, dragging me into the bathroom and sitting me of the edge of the bathtub. She gave my medicine cabinet the same treatment as my closet, piling up pomade and hairspray that I’d never actually used. When she pulled out a pair of scissors and started towards me I put up my arms in defense.  
“What are you doing?” I demanded.  
“Cutting your hair,” she said matter-of-factly.  
“No you’re not!” I told her firmly.  
“Ugh, c’mon,” she goaded. “It’ll look really nice.”  
I knew that no matter what I said or how much I struggled she’d end up getting her way, so I gave in with a dramatic sight. She went to work with a pleased smile, trimming away the hair at the back of my head and on the sides, leaving my shaggy fringe on top.  
“What’re you doing?” I grumbled. “It’ll look weird.”  
“No it won’t,” she insisted, ruffling what was left of my hair. She pulled my glasses off my face and set them somewhere behind her. I frowned but let her continue. Spreading some pomade on her fingers, she started to add it to my hair. Soon I could no longer feel my hair against my forehead.  
“Here,” she told me, tossing the box with my contacts at me, which I failed to catch because without them or my glasses I really couldn’t see for shit. “Put ‘em in.”  
I complied with only a roll of my eyes, looking in the little compact mirror she held for me.  
When I finished she pulled me up to look in the mirror. My eyes widened when I took in what she’d done. My hair was now styled up into an edgy quiff instead of covering half my face. I was surprised to find that I actually liked it, it made me feel like a movie star from the 50’s or something.  
“One more thing,” she said, rummaging in her pocket. When I turned to look at her she was holding up a safety pin.  
“What’s that for?” I asked.  
She simply grinned, pulling out a small silver hoop as well.  
“No,” I said firmly, crossing my arms. “No fucking way, Linder.”  
“Steven,” she started.  
“ _No_. I’m not doing it. You are not sticking that thing through my skin. Not gonna happen.”

“Steven?” Andy exclaimed when I walked into the cafeteria that Monday. All day people had been giving me strange looks, as though they were trying to figure out what had happened.  
“Hey,” I grinned, wincing a bit at the pull of my skin. I wasn’t used to the technical wound that Linder had given me, a new hole in the corner of my lip which was still tender.  
Johnny looked up from his lunch, freezing with his eyes wide. My grin turned to a smirk as I watched his eyes travel the length of my body, from my sculpted hair to the scuffed combat boots Linder had lent me. Something about my mini metamorphosis had given me a newfound burst of confidence. It was like wearing a costume on Halloween- there was a freedom in looking like something different from yourself. When his eyes lingered on my mouth I prodded teasingly at the lip ring with my tongue and his cheeks turned a light pink before he quickly turned his face down to his hands.  
“You look nice,” Mike told me.  
“Thanks,” I said, dropping into my usual seat beside Johnny.  
“Any particular reason for the transformation?” Andy asked knowingly.  
“Nope,” I replied, popping the ‘p’. “Just wanted a change.”  
“Well,” Andy winked, “if I wasn’t so damn hetersexual I’d be jumping over the table at you.”  
“Okay, Andy,” I rolled my eyes, “Stay on your side, yeah?”  
The three of us burst into laughter but Johnny stayed oddly silent, refusing to look up.  
“I gotta go,” he stated suddenly, scooping up his backpack and disappearing from the cafeteria.  
“What’s his problem?” Mike asked, frowning.  
“I dunno,” I told him, looking confusedly at the space Johnny had just taken up.  
“Oh my god,” Andy complained, looking at me like I was an idiot.  
“What?” I demanded.  
“You’re an idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised that I accidentally just sort if turned Moz into Luke Hemmings but whatever it works.  
> Besides, this whole thing is just based off of every pop punk fic I've ever read, most of which were 5sos so it's only expected.  
> The title is taken from the 5sos song by result.


	4. Daydream Away

I was holed up in my room that Friday night, scrolling through my phone and avoiding any social activity. Johnny hadn’t spoken to me since Monday and he’d barely looked at me all week. Every time I tried to address him he’d just shrugged, nodded or shook his head before finding some excuse to leave. I kept trying to figure out why he was acting so weirdly but I couldn’t. Every time I asked Andy he’d just said I was an idiot and/or hit me.  
I was about to text Mike as a last resort to see if maybe Johnny mentioned something to him when my phone vibrated, alerting me of a new message.  
From Unknown Number:  
_-hey steven its johnny_  
 _-milk gave me ur number im not a stalker i promis_  
 _-*mike_  
I quickly saved his number before replying.  
To Johnny:  
_-hey_  
From Johnny:  
_-hey_  
 _-do you think i could like come over?_  
To Johnny:  
_-sure_  
 _-when?_  
From Johnny:  
_-10 min?_  
To Johnny:  
_-yeah ok_  
 _-see you then_  
From Johnny:  
_-see you :)_  
I looked around my room in a sudden panic. Johnny was coming here? Would he explain why he was acting so weirdly? What if it was because he didn’t want to be friends anymore?  
I rushed through my room, throwing on an old cut up New York Dolls t-shirt and some skin-tight jeans. I was running my fingers through my hair in front of the mirror, rejuvenating my quiff, when there came a knock at the door.  
I calmed my breathing before pulling open the door to see Johnny standing with a hesitant smile on his face.  
“Hey,” he said, raising his hand in a halfhearted wave.  
“Hey,” I breathed, taking him in. I hadn’t really seen him all week and I was starved of his image. “Do you wanna, um, come in?”  
He nodded, following me back to my room and sitting next to me on my bed.  
“So, um,” I began awkwardly, my fingers pulling at the loose threads that erupted from the artfully ripped holes in my jeans, “what do you want to, like...”  
I trailed off when Johnny put his fingers over mine, gently pulling my hands away from my knees.  
“You’ll ruin your jeans if you keep pulling at the threads,” he chastised in an oddly soft voice. I looked down at where our hands were still touching, his fingers draped over mine.  
“Okay,” I said in that same soft voice, mostly because I wasn’t sure what else to say.  
“I’m sorry I’ve been weird,” he told me, frowning. “I, uh, I broke up with Angie?”  
“Oh,” I said, looking up to his face. “I’m sorry. Is that why you...?”  
He shook his head, “No. Well, kind of? Not really. It wasn’t gonna work out.”  
“Sorry,” I repeated, not really knowing why but I couldn’t think of any other way to respond. Was I supposed to be sad that my crush was now single? I suppose so, since he was also my friend, but I couldn’t find it in myself to be all that heartbroken.  
“It’s fine,” he shook his head slightly, chewing on his bottom lip in what was honestly a somewhat distracting manner. “I, uh, I liked someone else anyway.”  
“Oh,” I said, a little bit disappointed. Of course Johnny would never be truly single.  
“Yeah, I- uh, yeah,” he trailed off.  
I frowned, tilting my head quizzically.  
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m bad at this. I’m sorry, it’s just I, like... Well, you. Like, I... yeah.”  
“What?” I asked, trying to understand what he’d said.  
“Steven,” he whined, looking distressed, before rushing out, “I just think you’re like really nice looking and you’re really cool and you like anime and I like hanging out with you and I kind of wanted to kiss you already but then you got a lip ring and it’s kind of hot and like now it’s really hard not to and it’s really stupid but I-”  
He couldn’t finish because all of a sudden we were kissing. Or, well, I was kissing him and there was a second where he was just frozen and not doing anything at all but then he was kissing back and everything seemed perfect and right and it was like the entire world had fallen into place because somehow Johnny Fucking Marr liked me back.  
When we finally pulled apart after what felt like forever, Johnny leaned his forehead against mine. One of his hands was tangled in my hair and the other slid teasingly against my side, one finger dipping into a worn hole in my shirt and stroking my ribs, making me shiver.  
“So, like,” he said, his breath ghosting over my kiss-swollen lips, “we never finished Death Note...”  
“You wanna watch some more anime?” I laughed.  
“And make out?” he added hopefully.  
“Let’s do it, you fuckng nerd,” I agreed fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end, I think. I don't know, maybe I'll add an epilogue later but I might not.  
> Chapter title is from the All Time Low song.


End file.
